Kiss the Ring Read Online Free PDF Page B

listed as Red’s girlfriend in the police report, Naeema had gone to their address andfollowed the woman until she found a reason for them to meet so she could get in with Bas and the crew through her. It was clear real quick that Vivica loved Red, shopping, and clubbing. One stop by On Your Back, her favorite clothing store downtown, and Naeema had chatted her up about clothes and clubbing. Soon “Queen” and Vivica became the best of friends. Just a few weeks later Vivica introduced “Queen” to Bas at Club 973.
    Truly she knew she owed Vivica big time.
    Anytime in the last couple of months that Naeema went deep undercover, it was Viv and Red’s apartment where she slept. She lied and said she lived with her mother and hated going home. They bought it. She was in. She became like Vivica’s shadow and soon she was hanging out at the church with the crew. She had been accepted. Step one was complete.
    She needed a break from them motherfuckers. On and off for the last two months she had gotten lost in their world but she needed to shut the door on them. Everything about her dealings with them mofos was fake as a five-dollar pack of weave hair. For just one night she wanted to forget.
    Forget the revenge.
    Forget the crime she helped commit that day.
    Forget the murder she planned to commit.
    Forget that she was an “ain’t shit” mother with a dead son she never knew.
    Tears, guilt, and pain welled up.
    â€œShit,” she swore, reaching in the bag to pull out the wad of cash.
    She held it tight as hell in her fist and wished she wasn’t so broke that she could burn the money and feel allrighteous about not making a dime off her son’s death. Coulda, shoulda, fucking woulda.
    Standing up, she flung the wad against the opposite wall, knowing the whole time she would be on her knees looking for that loot first thing in the morning.
    Naeema picked up her cell phone and hit 69 on her speed dial. It rang twice.
    â€œWhaddup, Na?”
    â€œCome thru,” she said in a whisper filled with her need.
    The line stayed quiet for a few seconds.
    â€œWho dat, Tank?”
    Naeema tensed at the female voice questioning him from the background. She instantly felt hot with anger and jealousy.
    â€œYo,” she stressed, pressing her eyes closed. “Fuck her. Come thru .”
    â€œNaee—”
    Click.
    She hung up on his protests and checked the time on her phone, then dropped it onto her bed and crossed the room to the small bathroom just behind the stairs leading to the second floor. By the time she’d finished a long hot shower and douched she heard the roar of a motorcycle come up the drive. With nothing wrapped around her curves but her damp lime-green towel, Naeema made her way to the front door and opened it just as the lights of the Harley blacked out and a tall figure climbed off it to cut through the opening in the side gate. She bit her bottom lip and leaned back against the door, her eyes heavy from the weed and from straight wanting him to make her forget like only he could.
    She turned and walked back inside. She spotted the wadof money just peeking out from under the radiator and she dashed across the room to push it out of sight with her toe.
    â€œYou need to do something about this raggedy-ass door. Hell . . . and this raggedy motherfucka too,” he said, his tall, broad body looking as fine and fit as it was in the black tee he wore with jeans. Broad shoulders and narrow hips. Muscles. A body built to please.
    â€œShut up, Tank,” she said, letting the towel drop to the floor.
    He removed his helmet and she smiled at his fine Laz Alonzo–looking ass and his square face, slanted eyes, and soft lips.
    â€œYo, Naeema, you be trippin’,” he said.
    She lay back on the bed and spread her thick thighs wide. Even as he stood there like he was frozen in one spot, his sexy eyes dipped down to her pussy as she spread her lips